


Afraid

by acareeroutofrobbingbanks



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Cancer, M/M, Sad, no death though, the fountain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acareeroutofrobbingbanks/pseuds/acareeroutofrobbingbanks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The disease may be constantly mutating, but Pete and Patrick's relationship is very stable. A blatant rip off of the Darren Aronofsky movie, The Fountain, but I like it anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afraid

The light in the bathroom was a soft orange. Patrick wasn’t entirely sure he was awake, doing nothing but methodically rubbing the sponge up and down Pete’s arm, again and again, very gently. He wasn’t accomplishing anything, but just being there, with Pete, in the silence- it was nice. It was easy. It felt like normal, if he closed his eyes.

“Is he cute?” Pete asked abruptly, a light smile barely visible behind a mountain of bubbles that had floated down the tub to his face. Patrick blinked, dropping the sponge in the water.

“What?” He asked blankly. Pete grinned mischievously.

“Is he cute or what? You know, the boy you took your wedding ring off for?” He raised an eyebrow. Patrick closed his eyes in confusion, before looking at his left hand.

“Oh. I took it off for surgery this morning.” He said in a moment of realization. Pete chortled a bit.

“Well, when you gotta  _finish_  fast.” He teased, laying extra emphasis on the word finish. Patrick rolled his eyes and stood up, stalking towards the door in an over dramatic fashion, hoping that the tone of mocking would make it to his husband. Sure enough-

“Wait! Patrick, I was only joking!” Pete cried, a happy sort of laughter lying underneath his words. Patrick stopped, turning around, and smiled.

“I’ll make coffee.” He murmured, turning to walk out again.

“Wait!” Pete called out. Patrick turned around yet again, having only made it about half way to the door. He raised his eyebrow, waiting for Pete to continue. Somehow, despite everything, Pete took more time on things than anyone Patrick had ever met. It drove him insane sometimes, but was also strangely endearing. “Come and heat the sponge.” Pete said, his voice quieter. Patrick’s eyebrows furrowed.

He walked back over to the bath and turned on the hot water tap. He glanced over at Pete, seeing an almost frightened expression on the other man’s face. Patrick held the sponge under the stream of water, watching the steam go upwards and grimacing at the pain of the heat. He finally pulled his hand away, biting his lip to hold back a gasp at the intensity of the heat. He turned off the water and pressed the sponge down on Pete’s shoulder. Pete looked into his eyes, a pained expression on his face, and shook his head, ever so slightly.

“Outside, earlier, you couldn’t feel the cold.” Patrick said, his voice and eyes dull with realization.

“Patrick-” Pete began in a small voice. Patrick grimaced and drew back.

“I’ll call the doctor.” He said, his eyes downcast, though he made no move to stand up.

“No, Patrick! I’m afraid.” Pete gasped, his eyes wide. He grabbed Patrick’s shoulder and pulled him closer with a wet, soapy hand.

“I’m sorry.” Patrick mumbled, letting Pete weakly pull him into a hug, soaking his shirt through. Pete’s hands clawed at Patrick’s back, holding him in place.

“It’s been happening for a while now.” Pete whispered in Patrick’s ear. Patrick tried to squeeze his eyes shut, as if it would do him any good. “I’ve been losing sensitivity to hot and cold.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Patrick asked, his voice soft, trying his hardest not to sound panicked. Pete pushed him a foot or so away, so he could look into his eyes.

“Because I feel distant.” He said. He sounded close to tears. “Because if I can't feel the heat and cold, am I even real?" He looked panicked. "I don't know what's real anymore. What I'm imagining.” His eyes were crinkling at the edges, but he was too wet for Patrick to tell if he was crying. “Patrick?” Pete asked. They had been silent for a long time, he realized.

“Don’t worry, okay?” Patrick said, sitting up on the edge of the tub. “I’m here. I will always be here.” Pete threw his arms around Patrick’s neck, pulling him into a precariously balanced kiss.

“Are you sure this is-” Patrick began, only to have Pete pull him more deeply into the kiss. Patrick reciprocated, words forgotten. He leaned in deeper, until he felt himself crash into the steaming hot, bubble filled water. He grimaced as Pete began laughing, holding him close as water spilled onto the floor.

“I’ve got you,” Pete said through a huge smile, hugging Patrick closer as water continued to slosh over the edge.


End file.
